Face first
by 003chan
Summary: Hostile aliens trying to take over the Enterprise learn that it does not pay to mess with the ship's CMO. There is just a wee bit of violence. S/Mc


Title: Face first

Author: 003chan

Rating: T (I guess)

Pairing: S/Mc (eventually)

Summary: Hostile aliens trying to take over the Enterprise learn that it does not pay to mess with the ship's CMO. There is just a wee bit of violence. S/Mc

Disclaimer: Characters? No, not mine. I wish they were, then I could lock them in my basement and make the do... things. Wait, I _am _making them do things...

Not beta-read. English is not my first language. Please, bear with me. If you're a native speaker and spot some major mistake or want to make a beta-read, do let me know.

He exited the turbolift with a huge grin of satisfaction.

"Jim, I've fin..."

Before he could take in the situation on the bridge or finish his sentence, McCoy was slammed into the wall next to the turbolift face-first. The heavy impact almost knocked the air out of him. Having had his mouth opened when it abruptly contacted the solid bulkhead, he broke his lip and felt warm blood trickling down his chin. There was an iron grip on his wrists twisting both his arms behind his back. He felt trapped like a fly in a spiderweb.

McCoy swore under his breath. He tried to turn his head at least as much to see what was happening around him. And something certainly _must _have been happening, because he couldn't remember to ever have been welcomed on the bridge this way. It was true that Spock usually wasn't very happy about his presence there, but...

What he saw derailed his train of thoughts. To his right, Sulu, Chekov and two other crewmen sat on the floor being aimed at with what he could only presume to be a weapon. Two savage looking humanoids were towering over them, each holding the said weapon. Spock was standing next to the Captain's chair, a gleaming blade being held on his neck by another of the aliens. Kirk was kneeling on the floor, leaning over lying Uhura, his face red with rage and anger. Uhura must have been pushed or thrown down from her station. Even from where McCoy was standing, he could see her trembling all over. His medical instincts flared up and he struggled to break free to go to her. The grip on his wrists was unyielding and he hissed in pain.

"What do we have there?" A deep rough voice sounded from somewhere behind him. Heavy footsteps were approaching.

He was abruptly pulled away from the grey bulkhead and yanked around, founding himself face to face with what appeared to be the leader of the aliens. The tall humanoid was dressed in a green robe covered with complex embroidery. The sleeves were long but opened at the shoulders revealing massive muscular arms. A knotted sash on the humanoid's waist held a beautifully crafted scabbard. The face of the alien looked almost human, only it was larger.

McCoy noticed that the eyes currently scrutinizing him were pitch-black and unblinking. He set his jaw and pursed his lips in his trademark manner, fixing his own gaze into the two pools of darkness. His abused arms were rapidly getting numb.

The leader made a few steps towards him. He stopped at arm's length from the human doctor and his guard.

"Who are you? For what purpose did you come here?"

McCoy didn't respond.

The thin lips of the humanoid spread into a sinister grin revealing his pointed teeth for the first time. He licked them with a long grayish tongue and scowled.

"Can't you speak!"

McCoy glared.

"Bones, careful..." whispered Kirk urgently, but anger was still making his voice quiver.

"Bones?" articulated the alien experimentally. "Is that your name?"

McCoy's eyes narrowed even more.

"Doctor Leonard McCoy, Chief Medical Officer," he snapped with as much aloofness as one can muster while being unable to move a limb and having a trickle of blood slowly dripping on the front of one's shirt.

In an instant the humanoid grabbed his chin and held it tightly, lowering his face to the human. Pitch-black eyes were staring intently into the blue ones of the Doctor.

After a moment the alien drew away slightly.

"What an exquisite colour," he murmured.

Only then he noticed the sticky red liquid that had smeared his fingers. With a curious expression he tasted the blood with his tongue and then licked his fingers clean.

"Delicious," the alien bared his teeth in another unpleasant grin.

McCoy gulped trying to keep his face impassive. He was used to hostile aliens, but hostile aliens who obviously liked the taste of human blood were a different story...

Suddenly the alien's mouth was on his own, licking his lips and chin with the long rough tongue. McCoy pressed his lips together tightly, grunting in disgust. He didn't bother to try to turn his head away or struggle against the grip, because he was being held to tightly to be able to even attempt any of it.

He heard Uhura's muffled cry and then a gasp for breath... which came from behind him. The alien leader drew away from him and looked around sharply. His men were crumpling to the ground around him. A moment later he started wheezing himself.

The dead grip on the Doctor's arms loosened. In a few seconds the guard let go of him completely, doubled over and fell to the floor choking. The leader was struggling to breathe and grasping at his throat, before he too collapsed.

McCoy frowned in confusion, then his eyes got wide. He threw a quick glance to the floor, where shards of the vial, he had carried when he entered the bridge, lay in a dark stain. A stain that was rapidly disappearing as the volatile liquid that caused it evaporated. He cast a triumphant glance at the motionless body at his feet.

"Gotcha."

All the aliens were on the floor rendered harmless, some of them still struggling for breath, some of them appeared to be unconscious. Their weapons were lying next to their prone bodies forgotten.

McCoy wiped at his mouth with the hem of his medical uniform and looked around. Sulu and Richards were gathering the alien rifles cautiously, trying not to make them go off. Chekov was picking up the shaken Uhura and Spock busied himself with calling the security party to the bridge. Kirk was staring at the good doctor, shaking his head in disbelief.

McCoy shrugged and grinned at the Captain. "He shouldn't have roughed me up. His own undoing."

Spock looked up at him and then eyed the shards on the floor. "Another of your noxious potions, Doctor?"

"Do I hear any complains, Mister Spock? Because in case you haven't noticed, I just saved the ship from yet another invasion."

Spock raised his eyebrows. "I am not complaining, Doctor. However, I am compelled to say that the odds of you coming to the bridge with a volatile liquid potentially dangerous to the respiratory system of the aliens currently endeavouring to take over the ship, are so... shall we say _remote_ that I do not believe you are interested in me quoting them."

"Yes, Spock, you're right, I'm not. But you should know by now that Scotty is not the only miracle worker 'round 'ere." McCoy flashed him a smile as radiant as he could make with the broken lip.

The Captain stopped their customary bicker with a serious tone. "Bones, what was that stuff?"

"Well, Jim... It was a remedy for the sneezing fits you've kept having since the Zeribi III mission."

"Oh..." Kirk looked slightly intimidated by the statement. "How long will it keep them under?"

"I have no idea. That's why I'm now going to the brig to take a closer look at those poor bastards. 'Care to join me Mister Spock?"

"Yes I do, Doctor. The results of this observation may prove to be invaluable if we are ever to encounter this obviously hostile race again."

"I think I owe you a drink for saving the day, Bones," Kirk smiled and bent to help the security guard pick up the unconscious alien that lay at his feet.

Spock and McCoy entered the turbolift with the two security guards who were half-dragging, half-carrying the unconscious alien leader.

McCoy's eyes wandered from the beautifully embroidered green robe of the alien to Spock's face. The Vulcan seemed to be uncomfortable. If he were a human, he would positively be fidgeting. McCoy regarded the tightly set jaw and the tenseness in the Vulcan's shoulders.

Spock was looking down at the alien. His face was impassive, but it seemed to cost him a lot of energy to keep it that way. McCoy's gaze started to slide back down to the unconscious body but got caught on its way by the sight of Spock's hands. Was he really clenching his fists? The Doctor arched one eyebrow and a peculiar smile appeared on his face.

McCoy exited the turbolift to make a detour to sickbay for some equipment. To his surprise Spock followed him out of the lift without a word of explanation.

As soon as they arrived in the doctor's office and were practically out of sight, McCoy found himself being spun around, his soiled medical smock being ripped of him in two pieces, leaving him in his black undershirt. He gasped in shock and scowled at Spock, fixing his gaze into the blazing dark eyes of the Vulcan. His gaze soon softened and he smiled at the First Officer, who was now visibly agitated.

"What is it, Spock?" McCoy asked innocently. "You seem a little out of sorts..."

"Go wash your mouth, Leonard!"

- fin -

Reviews are very welcome as this is my first ST story.

I was writing this story for more than a week, but only now I realised that for the last three days I've been listening to a song, the lyrics of which start with "_So little blood I have, and yet it's dripping out of my mouth_," Coincidence? Seems so...


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